


nobody, but nobody, can make it out here alone

by burninghoneyatdusk



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bisexual Bellamy Blake, Christmas, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Light Angst, Sharing a Bed, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:48:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28331148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/burninghoneyatdusk/pseuds/burninghoneyatdusk
Summary: Bellamy's family thinks he's taking home his girlfriend Clarke for the holidays. There are just a few problems - the first being that Clarke is definitely not his girlfriend. The second being that Bellamy's girlfriend was actually his boyfriend...who dumped him a month ago. He's lucky Clarke is a good friend and agrees to play his girlfriend for the holidays.
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin
Comments: 17
Kudos: 276
Collections: Bellarke-Mas Secret Santa





	nobody, but nobody, can make it out here alone

**Author's Note:**

  * For [QueenoftheWallflowers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenoftheWallflowers/gifts).



> Happy Holidays Pris! I think I hit everything on your list 😉
> 
> Title is from the Maya Angelou poem "Alone"

Bellamy never  _ meant _ for things to get so out of hand - truly, he didn’t. It’s just that one white lie spiraled into several bigger lies, which led directly to his current situation. 

“So we’re  _ finally _ going to meet this mystery girlfriend of yours?” his mother asks over the phone. 

“Well, I don’t know if she can make it - she has plans with her own family,” he tries.

“This is getting ridiculous - six months, and we still haven’t met this Clarke? I mean honestly, Bell.”

Bellamy sighs, running a hand through his curls. “I’ll - I’ll try talking to her,” he concedes. 

Bellamy nearly chucks his phone across the room once he hangs up ten minutes later, collapsing on the couch and burying his face in his hands. The issue isn’t that he’s no longer dating Clarke, it’s that he was  _ never  _ dating Clarke. There is a Clarke in his life - it’s just that they’ve never been anything more than friends. Best friends even, but only friends. 

Six months ago, Bellamy started dating Gabriel. It turned serious fast - it was his first serious relationship - and in all of his lovesick bliss, he made the mistake of telling his family about him. Except, he couldn’t tell his family Gabriel was a  _ him _ . He had every intention of coming out as bi to them, yet as soon as they asked about the  _ girl _ he was dating, he suddenly couldn’t do it. Bellamy blurted the first woman’s name that came to mind, which of course was Clarke. She was and is the most important person in his life aside from his family, so it made sense that she was who he blurted in the moment. Of course, there’s also the fact that he’s been a little in love with Clarke for the past five years, leading up to the moment he met Gabe - but that’s  _ definitely _ not why he said her name.

Maybe if he was still dating Gabriel, he could summon the courage needed to tell his family about him. The problem is that Gabe dumped him over a month ago, largely because of the fact he wasn’t ready to come out to his family. It’s not that Bellamy feels like his family will be  _ mad _ per se - it’s just that Bellamy has always tried his hardest to be perfect. He had to step up for his family in so many ways, especially after his dad died when he was fifteen, and so he never shared any part of his life that might cause his family the least bit of distress, including his sexuality. Sure, his mother and sister weren’t homophobic, but the subtle, ignorant comments casually thrown out over the years makes him hesitate every time. 

Bellamy lays down on the couch, trying to think his way out of the situation, whilst knowing it requires more than a simple brainstorming session. He’s still laying down, eyes on his ceiling, when he hears the front door to his apartment open. He doesn’t bother moving, given he already knows who it is. 

“Having an existential crisis?” Clarke asks, passing him on her way to his small kitchen. He can hear her setting down the bags of Thai takeout that she brought with her. 

“Something like that,” he mumbles. 

A moment later, Clarke’s face appears above his when she sits on the couch arm next to his head. “What’s going on?”

In his thirty minutes without moving, only one solution to his problem has passed through his mind. It isn’t a great one, but it feels better than telling his family that he’s not only single, but has been lying about who he’s been dating for six months. He supposes that he could just tell them that Clarke and him broke up, but the fact he’s been in a relationship has made his mom so happy. Bellamy knows it’s a problem, how he always puts their own happiness above his, but he just can’t help it - it’s just who he is.

Before Gabriel, Bellamy wouldn’t think twice about asking Clarke to play his fake girlfriend for his family. His only reservation would be the fact that it would mean her not going home to her own family for the holidays, but he knows that’s hardly a bad thing for Clarke. Now though...things are different. 

Clarke was acting strangely when he dated Gabriel, but everytime he brought it up, she completely brushed him off. Now that him and Gabriel broke up, him and Clarke are back to their old selves - takeout and movie nights, coffee dates during work breaks at the Polis Museum where Clarke works as an art curator and he works as a Historian, happy hours and drinks with the rest of their friends. He can only assume Clarke wasn’t a fan of Gabriel, although he can’t imagine why. Gabe might have broken up with him, but he knows it was his own fault - he can hardly blame Gabe for not wanting to put up with his secrets. Still, part of him thinks he isn’t as sad as he should be about it. That might have something to do with Clarke being back in his daily life again.

“Okay,” Bellamy sighs, sitting up and turning to face her. “I want you to know that  _ I _ know exactly how pathetic what I’m about to ask you is.”

Clarke rolls her eyes, but without any malice. “You’re so damn dramatic. Just tell me what’s going on.”

Bellamy considers starting with a long explanation of how he got to this point, but in the end, decides diving head first into it might be better. “How would you feel about pretending to be my girlfriend and coming home with me to Arkadia for Christmas?”

Bellamy expects Clarke to scold him, or dive into a lecture, like she usually does at his ill-advised antics. Instead, to his surprise, her cheeks flush, and she opens her mouth slightly before closing it again.

“You’re girlfriend?” she questions, after a beat. 

Bellamy sighs, slouching further into the couch. “It’s a long story. Essentially, I chickened out about telling my family about Gabe when we started dating, and so I told them the first woman’s name that came to mind...yours.”

Clarke raises her brow, giving him a pointed and decidedly unamused look. 

“And then we broke up,” he continues. “But my mom was so excited I was finally in a relationship that lasted more than two months that I didn’t have the heart to tell her that he - or  _ you _ , I guess - ended things with me. Then things kind of...spiraled.”

“You’re a mess.”

Bellamy huffs a laugh. “Thanks, Princess. I’m well aware.”

“Have you thought about actually...telling them about Gabe? I’d never want to rush you, Bell, but from what you’ve told me about your family, it sounds like they’d be more accepting than you think.”

“I don’t even think - it’s not that -” Bellamy shakes his head, frustrated at his inability to convey his family dynamic to Clarke. He’s had to be perfect since the moment his father died, and has lived for his mother and sister since then. “If they don’t take it well, then I’ve ruined Christmas for years to come,” he settles on instead.

“So let me get this straight. You want me to come home to Arkadia with you for the holidays, and  _ pretend _ to be in a relationship with you - a relationship we’ve apparently been in for over six months.”

“That just about covers it,” he confirms, already wary of her response.

“Okay,” Clarke shrugs, hopping off the couch. “Why not?” 

Clarke walks into the kitchen and starts unpacking their takeout before Bellamy can process her response.

“Why not?” he questions, snapping out of it and following her into the kitchen. “You’re really okay with it?”

“Bell, you know my family is a pain in the ass during the holidays. I love my mother. Deep -  _ very _ deep down - I do. But she’s too much to handle during the holidays.”

“She’s going to kill you - or me - if she finds out why you aren’t going home for Christmas.”

“No, she won’t, because if my mother wants anything at all for Christmas, it’s me in a relationship. She’ll just be so happy to hear I’m going to my  _ boyfriend’s  _ house that she won’t question it.”

Bellamy eyes her warily, although Clarke isn’t exactly wrong. She’s never been any better at serious relationships than he has, and her mother nags her about it even more than his own mother nags him. 

“If you say so.”

“I say so,” Clarke agrees. “Now, let’s eat.”

\--∞--

Clarke and him sit in comfortable silence for most of the drive to Arkadia, Bellamy in a beige cardigan and Clarke in a dark red cable knit sweater. He tries not to think about the fact that they look pretty good together. When they’re about twenty minutes away from the city he grew up in, Bellamy turns down the Christmas music that’s been playing in the background.

“So we should probably have a story,” he prompts.

“A story?”

“Yeah - like how we started dating.”

“Oh.” Clarke bites down on her bottom lip as she thinks, a habit that Bellamy’s a little too enamored with. “Well, we should probably stick as close to the truth as possible.”

“The truth?”

“Yeah - like, we obviously met at work and became friends five years ago.”

Sometimes, Bellamy can hardly believe he’s known Clarke for that long. She started working at the museum the summer after she graduated from Polis University. Bellamy is five years older, and had been working there since graduating from Arkadia University five years before her. Clarke was running late on her first day (another habit Bellamy would soon learn was all too common) and rounded a corner too quickly, spilling her coffee down the front of Bellamy’s shirt. She insisted on taking him out for coffee the following day. That one coffee date somehow turned into weekly coffee dates, which somehow turned into them hanging out outside of work and seamlessly assimilating into each others’ friend groups.

“And then,” she continues. “How about we say that...I don’t know - that you just decided to ask me out on a date when we were having a movie night or something.”

“Ask you out?” he questions. “Just - out of the blue? Just like that?”

Clarke shrugs, giving him a quizzical look. “Why not?”

Bellamy doesn’t have a reason as to why that’s not a good story. Maybe the problem is, when she puts it like that - so simply, so casually - it makes him question why he never did ask her out. In his head, telling Clarke about his feelings for her seemed like something monumental and possible catastrophic. To just casually ask her on a date? That was a bewildering idea to him, but now he’s wondering why exactly that’s the case.

“No reason,” Bellamy answers. “That sounds good to me.”

\--∞--

It’s late afternoon by the time Bellamy and Clarke arrive at his mother’s house. Octavia, who is Clarke’s age, is already there with her boyfriend of three years, Lincoln. For both Christmas Eve dinner and Christmas dinner, Bellamy’s uncle Marcus and his grandmother Vera will also be there. 

Bellamy’s mother runs out of the house before they’re even out of the car. As soon as he steps onto the driveway, she wraps him in a tight hug. Bellamy hugs her back just as tightly, well aware of how much she misses him. Some days, the guilt he feels from moving away from his family still hits him anew. 

“You must be Clarke,” his mother starts, letting him go and giving Clarke a hug. Bellamy smiles as Clarke hugs her back, reveling in that fact it all seems too natural, too right, to be bringing Clarke home as his girlfriend. “It’s so nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” Clarke responds politely, her upbringing shining through her manners. “Thanks so much for having me.”

“Oh please, we’re so happy to have you here. We’ve been hearing all about you for the last six months - and honestly long before that - this is long overdue.”

“Before the last six months?” Clarke questions, shooting Bellamy a teasing glance as his mother ushers them into the house. Bellamy is thankful for his darker complexion in that moment, for the way his cheeks don’t turn as bright red as they feel. 

“She’s exaggerating,” Bellamy grumbles. It’s met with laughter by both his mother and Clarke.

“Bell!” 

Bellamy looks up just as Octavia stands from the couch and rushes over to him, pulling him into a hug. 

“Hey,” he laughs, squeezing her tightly. “Missed you,” he adds, letting her go. Lincoln hovers a little awkwardly behind her before Bellamy shakes his hand, greeting him. 

“This is Clarke,” he introduces, pulling her forward.

“About time we’re meeting you,” Octavia exclaims. “Bell never shuts up about you - I  _ knew  _ he had feelings for you, but he’d never admit it.”

“Honestly, O,” Bellamy complains, only to met with a teasing smile that only little sisters can perfect. 

“It’s true,” she shrugs. 

“Okay, okay,” his mother laughs. “Let’s let them get settled - come help me with dinner, O.”

Both Lincoln and Octavia follow his mother into the kitchen as Clarke and him pick up their bags again. 

“Uh - this way,” he tells her, climbing the staircase in their foyer. 

When he invited Clarke along, he hadn’t really thought about the fact that his mother and sister might think it’s okay to spill everything he’s said about her in the past, before they were “dating.” He can only hope that Clarke interprets their comments as those from a nosy and overexcited family, instead of reading too much into them. 

Another thing Bellamy hadn’t thought about, until he’s opening the door to his childhood bedroom, is their sleeping arrangements. 

“Shit,” he says, staring at his double bed. “Sorry, I didn’t really think-”

“Relax, Bell,” Clarke laughs, pushing past him into the room and setting her bag down on his old desk. “We’re adults - we can handle sharing a bed.”

Bellamy laughs as he sets down his own bag, hoping it sounds genuine. The thing is, as adults, if it were any other friend, it truly  _ wouldn’t  _ be a big deal. But the thing is, he’s spent too many nights in his own bed imagining this scenario and more, to not feel both nervous and excited at the prospect.

\--∞--

Bellamy gives Clarke a quick tour of the house and by the time they arrive in the kitchen, his Uncle Marcus and grandmother have already arrived. He introduces them to Clarke as his mother pours them both glasses of wine. 

Dinner goes fairly smoothly until halfway through, when Octavia brings up her friend Niylah who works at the same gym as her and Lincoln. 

“Yeah, she’s spending Christmas with her girlfriend’s family, all the way in Los Angeles. The thought of spending Christmas somewhere so sunny and bright feels so inherently wrong,” O laughs. 

Bellamy doesn’t disagree - both Arkadia and Polis are in the northeast. He’d hate to live somewhere without four seasons.

“Her  _ girlfriend _ ?” his grandmother questions. Bellamy’s chest tightens at her judgmental tone and he feels Clarke tense beside him.

“Mom, don’t start - it’s not the place,” his mom warns. It’s innocent enough, but rubs Bellamy the wrong way. Does his mother think there’s a  _ right _ place to say those things?

“It’s unnatural,” his grandmother continues, ignoring his mother’s plea. 

“Times are changing, Mom,” his uncle tries. Bellamy catches Octavia rolling her eyes at their grandmother, her boyfriend studiously staring at his plate of food beside her.

“That doesn’t mean they should.”

“Honestly, Mom,” his mother sighs, setting down her fork. “It’s not like I’d wish it on my children, but people should be free to love who they love. It’s as simple as that. And like I said - this is not the time to discuss it, let’s move on.”

Bellamy looks at Marcus, who seems ready to say something - probably something that shifts the conversation in a new direction. Clarke speaks before he has a chance to.

“What do you mean you wouldn’t wish that on your children, Mrs. Blake?”

Bellamy has to give it to Clarke - she’s a master at polite conversation and charming tones. Because of this, although Bellamy feels nervous about where the conversation is headed, his mother doesn’t seem offended by her question.

“Oh, I just mean, who would wish for their child’s life to be harder than it needs to be? I would just worry about them more than I already do,” she smiles, squeezing O’s hand next to her.

“Oh,” Clarke answers. “I see where you’re coming from, but maybe the focus should be on changing other peoples’ attitudes towards the LGBTQ+ community rather than changing who people are. I’m actually bi, and it’s just part of who I am, like anything else,” she shrugs, smiling at his mother.

Bellamy bites his lip, unsure of if this conversation is going anywhere good. Still, it’s these little moments that make Bellamy love Clarke all the more. She’s more comfortable with who she is, and for all their faults, her family never had an issue with Clarke’s sexuality. She came out at fourteen and lives her life unapologetically. It’s a place Bellamy still hopes he can get to some day.

His mother nods. “I suppose you’re right, Clarke,” she answers. Still, her voice sounds strained.

\--∞--

After dinner, they have coffee and dessert before his uncle and grandmother leave. The rest of them settle in the living room to watch A Christmas Story, but Bellamy is hardly paying attention. His mind keeps drifting back to dinner, back to his family’s comments. Bellamy knew his grandmother felt that way, but his mother essentially implying that his sexuality would make her life more difficult is a hard pill to swallow. 

Clarke knows him well enough to pick up on the fact that he’s quiet, that he’s bothered by what was said. He can tell by the way she sits closer to him. It probably only looks like typical girlfriend behavior to the rest of his family, but Bellamy knows it’s actually her own wordless way of letting him know that she’s there if he needs her - like she always is. He tries not to think about what it means that that in itself makes them seem like a couple. 

Bellamy is relieved when everyone finally heads to bed, so he can be alone. Well, technically Clarke will be with him, but it’s not like he’s ever had to pretend around her.

Bellamy is already in bed when Clarke returns from the bathroom. His mouth goes dry when he sees her - she’s wearing an oversized flannel and a tight pair of black sleep shorts that nearly look like spandex. She runs a hand through her shoulder-length hair, tousling it and unknowingly making him feel like he’s going to lose his mind as she sets her clothing back on top of her bag. If sixteen year old him knew that she was about to climb into his bed, he’d lose his mind. 

“Can I hit the lights?”

Bellamy nods, rolling onto his side, his back to Clarke as she climbs into bed next to him. 

“Bell?” she says quietly, a beat later.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he answers, already knowing what she’s going to say. He hates that his voice sounds choked, and he hates that Clarke knows him well enough to catch it.

“Okay,” she answers. 

Bellamy feels her scoot closer to him, her arm wrapping around his waist as she holds him close, chest pressed against his broad back. He takes a deep breath, feeling just a little bit better. He lets his hand rest on top of hers, letting her know without words that it helps. In response, her forehead falls against the back of his shoulder. He feels her press a kiss to his shoulder over his t-shirt, right before he drifts off.

\--∞--

Bellamy wakes before Clarke on Christmas morning, which is unsurprising. Unless she has work, Clarke usually isn’t out of bed before 10am. What’s more surprising is how in their sleep, they somehow became tangled in each other. Clarke is holding him, fast asleep with her head against his chest and her arm slung over him. Bellamy’s arm is wrapped under her, now numb, and their legs are intertwined. 

Bellamy swallows thickly, trying to think of a scenario in which he can detangle himself without waking her. It’s an awkward enough position to wake up to on its own, but his sweatpants are now tented, making it that much worse. Luckily, Clarke stirs after a few minutes - enough so that Bellamy can roll her off him without being too obvious about it. Just as he does, there’s a loud knock on his door. 

“Get up, we’re doing presents!” his sister yells from the other side of the door. 

Bellamy sighs - nothing has changed since they were kids. Clarke blinks her eyes open at the commotion, looking up at him. The combination of her bed head and sleepy eyes is almost too much to handle. 

“I promise, there will be coffee,” Bellamy laughs, drawing a chuckle from her. 

“There better be.”

\--∞--

Everyone congregates in the living room with fresh cups of coffee to open presents. Bellamy and Clarke are seated next to each other on the loveseat, the other three seated on the couch with Octavia in the middle. It’s a little chaotic after that, even with only the five of them. His family never had the patience to open one present at a time, and so it’s a free for all as they tear into the gifts, calling  _ thank you's _ across the room. 

“Oh my - this is stunning,” his mother says. 

Bellamy looks up to see what she’s looking at, realizing that she’s just opened Clarke’s gift to her. It’s a painting of a photo of his family that Bellamy keeps in his apartment. Bellamy is twelve, his sister only seven, and most importantly, his dad is also in it.

“Oh - it’s nothing,” Clarke quickly stammers, cheeks flushed. Bellamy smiles, forever amused by how badly she takes compliments. It always seemed insane to him, given that she deserves every one she receives and more. 

“It’s not nothing, it’s beautiful,” his mother argues. Bellamy thinks that her eyes might be glistening. 

“I’m so glad you like it,” Clarke smiles, before turning towards Bellamy. He’s a little embarrassed that she catches him staring at her. If she thinks anything of it, she doesn’t show it. 

“Um, here,” Clarke says, handing him a gift. “Your mom’s gift is kind of a spoiler,” she laughs.

Bellamy unwraps it carefully, never one to tear into his gifts like his sister does. He pulls out a framed painting of the two of them, immediately recognizing it as the first selfie they took together five years ago.

“It’s-”

“I know,” he cuts her off, smiling widely. “It’s perfect, I love it.” 

Bellamy gives her a quick kiss on the cheek, something he’s never thought twice about. But his nosy sister, who had apparently been watching them, has an opinion about it like everything else.

“She gives you a gift like that, and all she gets is a kiss on the cheek?” Octavia huffs. 

Bellamy rolls his eyes. “Some couples don’t like to make out in front of everyone,” he deadpans, giving her and Lincoln a pointed look.

“Oh, please-”

Octavia cuts herself off when Bellamy turns and kisses Clarke, before he can overthink it. It’s a quick kiss, over before it started, but it still has his blood feeling hot and desperate, his heart pounding at the warmth of her lips on his for the first time. Clarke’s cheeks flush, which only makes him want to kiss her again - it makes him  _ want _ to be one of those couples who makes out in front of everyone, because if he gets to kiss Clarke, he doesn’t care who’s around.

“Leave your brother alone, O,” his mother chastises, giving Bellamy a quick wink that makes him smile and Clarke laugh. 

“Your turn,” Bellamy says, handing Clarke her gift. Thankfully, Octavia is already focused on opening a new gift of her own. 

Clarke takes the gift from him, giving him a teasingly suspicious look before opening it. Once she does, she furrows her brow, like she’s trying to work something out. For a split second, Bellamy worries that he’s made a mistake with the gift - that he went too far and freaked her out, or that maybe it was just a stupid idea, plain and simple.

Bellamy gave her  _ The Complete Collected Poems of Maya Angelou _ , her favorite book. It’s one she talked about countless times, one he knew she’d first read as a girl and countless times after. Except, this book is different. He reached out to Luna, an up and coming artist in Polis who Clarke loves. Clarke has dragged Bellamy to multiple galleries showing her work. Bellamy doesn’t love art the way Clarke does, but he loves to watch Clarke excited and passionate about anything - whether that’s her favorite book or artist - so he hardly minds tagging along. After attending the last gallery showcase, Bellamy contacted Luna and asked if she’d be willing to paint an original cover for the book. Thankfully, she’d graciously agreed. 

“I-” Bellamy starts, running a hand through is hair, unsure of what to say. Clarke is still just staring at the book. 

“Are you serious?” Clarke asks as she turns to him, finally finding her voice. Bellamy notices how her own eyes are filled with tears, right before she flings herself at him, hugging him tightly. 

“This is the best gift I’ve ever gotten - how did you get her to do this?” Her breath is hot against the skin of his neck as she speaks. 

“Well, she’s a good person because she didn’t charge me as much as she probably should have,” he chuckles. 

Clarke shakes her head, letting him go and staring at the book again, like she can’t believe it’s real.

“Jesus, Bell - what did you get her?” Octavia asks, looking at them curiously. 

Clarke holds it up, explaining who the artist is to Octavia. Octavia raises her eyes at him once Clarke finishes.

“Damn, big brother. You really are finally head over heels in love aren’t you?”

Bellamy nearly refutes it - it’s an instinct to deny his feelings for Clarke by now. Hell, he’s had to do it with Gabe a few times. But then he remembers that they’re supposed to be dating, in love, and how strange that would be. 

“Yeah,” he agrees, pressing a quick kiss to Clarke’s temple. 

The thing is, it doesn’t feel like a lie. Not even a little bit.

\--∞--

Bellamy isn’t sure if the tense atmosphere in his room as they get ready for dinner is in his head. It isn’t a bad tense, but after the kiss, the gifts, the I love you - fake or not - Bellamy can’t help but think that something now feels unspoken between them. 

Clarke is using his mirror to do her makeup when Bellamy returns from his shower, dressed in dark jeans and a forrest green t-shirt. He pulls on a gray cardigan over it, catching Clarke’s eye in the mirror. She gives him a teasing look, smiling and shaking her head, and he thinks that maybe the tension really was in his head. Maybe he’s just projecting his own complicated feelings. 

“You and your cardigans,” she chuckles. 

“You love them,” he argues, putting his glasses on. He’s too lazy to deal with contacts tonight. 

“Well...they are very  _ you _ .”

Bellamy laughs, sitting down on the edge of his bed and watching Clarke as she applies her mascara. God, it’s unfair how beautiful she is. 

“Ready for dinner?” Clarke asks, putting away her makeup bag a minute later.

“Ready? Sure. Doesn’t mean I’m looking forward to it after last night.”

Clarke gives him a sympathetic, before she pulls him up from the bed.

“I’ll be with you the whole time.”

\--∞--

To Bellamy’s relief, dinner goes much more smoothly than it did the previous night. Still, he couldn’t totally enjoy it because he wasn’t sure it would go smoothly until it was already over. After dinner, they exchange a few gifts with his grandmother and uncle before watching  _ It’s a Wonderful Life _ . By the time everyone heads to bed, Bellamy is already looking forward to leaving the next morning. As soon as he thinks that, he feels guilty about it.

This time when Clarke slides into bed beside him, he rolls onto his side and faces her. She offers him a smile that’s more shy than he’s used to.

“Thank you, Clarke...for everything.”

Clarke huffs a laugh. “I should be thanking you - I avoided my mother’s nagging and got the best Christmas gift.”

Bellamy smiles at that. “I’m glad you like it - although I’m partial to my own gift from you.” Bellamy swallows, before continuing. “I think I might come clean to my mom and sister in the morning - about us, and me.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I just -” Bellamy shrugs, unsure of where his sudden strike of bravery, of confidence comes from. But then he looks at Clarke, and it’s clear. “You make me feel brave,” he admits. “I know I shouldn’t have to depend on another person to feel that way, but it’s the truth.”

Clarke furrows her brow. “There’s nothing wrong with being supported by other people, Bell. In fact, you  _ deserve _ the support - everybody deserves that. Nobody should have to deal with life alone, but you seem to insist on carrying the world on your shoulders at all time. But you don’t have to do that - at least, not with me.”

Clarke’s words make Bellamy emotional, his chest aching with longing for her, for her words to be true. He sighs. 

“I used to think that things with Gabe would have gone differently if I was willing to be honest about everything. But now - well, I think if he was the right person, I would have felt supported instead of backed into a corner.”

“Well, I don’t know about Gabe, but I do know that being supported - no matter where you’re at - is what you deserve.”

An amused smile itches the corners of his lips. “You don’t have to pretend you liked Gabe - I could tell you didn’t.”

“I didn’t dislike Gabe,” Clarke immediately argues, brow furrowed like she’s genuinely confused at the accusation.

Bellamy lifts an eyebrow in response. “Really? It seemed like it - you were hardly around when we were dating.”

“No,” Clarke starts. She swallows, hesitating. “I didn’t dislike Gabe,” she reiterates. “I - I disliked that he was dating you.”

Bellamy’s stomach flips wildly, his heart beating faster. “What?”

“Oh, God,” Clarke groans, rolling onto her back and covering her face with her hands. “We’re stuck in the same bed, why did I think this was a good time to say that?”

“Clarke?” he prompts, hoping she’ll say something more. 

Clarke’s hands remain over her face, muffling her voice when she speaks. She shakes her head as she does. “Pretend I didn’t say that, okay? It was the wine.”

Bellamy scoots closer to her, leaning over her so that he’s looking down at her. One by one, he pries each hand from her face. Supporting himself on his hands, he has her caged in, an arm on each side of her. 

“What if we didn’t pretend you didn’t say that?” he asks quietly.

“I don’t know,” Clarke murmurs. She swallows before speaking again. “I guess that depends on what you’d say.”

“I don’t think I’d say anything.”

Something like disappointment washes over Clarke’s face. “Oh-”

“I think I’d  _ do _ something,” he cuts her off, right before he leans down to kiss her. 

Clarke’s lips are searing, addicting as she immediately kisses him back. She pulls him down on top of her and he drops to his forearms as her hands move to his hair. Bellamy groans and Clarke opens her mouth to his, their tongues eagerly seeking the other. Bellamy shifts, settling between Clarke’s legs, her body readily cradling his. He only momentarily comes up for air before he begins kissing down her jaw, her neck, her shoulder - any skin he can reach with his lips. 

“Bellamy,” she moans, her hands sliding up his waist under his t-shirt as his own stroke the outside of her thighs. 

He thoughtlessly grinds against her center, almost unintentionally, seeking friction before he can even think about it. Clarke gasps at the sensation and Bellamy pulls up to look at her, breath ragged.

“Just to make sure I’m not misinterpreting...you like me?”

Clarke laughs, looking nearly bewildered at the question. “No, Bell - I’m a little in love with you.”

“Thank god,” he moans, leaning down to kiss her again. Clarke pulls him even closer to her, although he didn’t think that was possible. He feels like he’s on the brink of losing his mind. “Me too, by the way,” he adds, realizing that he should probably say it outloud, no matter how obvious it is in his own mind. 

“How long?” Clarke asks, lips brushing against his. She sounds as breathless as him. 

“Only for the last five years.”

Clarke giggles in response, tugging on the bottom of his shirt. Bellamy leans back on his knees, pulling it off as Clarke starts unbuttoning her flannel. He gets impatient and starts helping with the buttons, pulling it off her as soon as he can. He can’t help but stare at her bare chest, heaving up and down with her heavy breaths. Leaning down, he kisses the top of one breast, his hand moving to the other.

“Bell,” she moans, pushing him up. In response to the look of confusion he’s wearing, her hands move to the band of his sweatpants. “Another time,” she explains. “I need you inside me - now.”

“Fuck, Clarke,” he groans, kissing her once more before leaning back again to take off his sweatpants, kicking them off ungracefully. Clarke works on her own shorts, shimmying out of them. Bellamy helps her, pulling them the rest of the way off and tossing them aside. 

“I’m on the pill,” Clarke explains as his body covers hers again. Bellamy is a little ashamed of the fact he wasn’t thinking about a condom. He’s never reckless with sex, but Clarke is doing things to him that he’s never experienced before. 

He nods in response, rubbing his hard cock against her center, warm and already so wet for him. Clarke whimpers, arching her back to get closer to him.

“You’re sure?” he asks.

Clarke nods eagerly as he guides himself into her. His hand moves to cover Clarke’s mouth when a loud moan escapes her. 

“We have to be quiet,” he chuckles, still pushing into her. 

He realizes that might be difficult, given how amazing she feels. Kissing her, he thrusts into her slowly at first, letting her adjust to him before his pace quickens. 

“So good, so good,” she whispers, kissing his neck when his face drops to her shoulder. 

“Fuck, Clarke.”

“Wanna be on top,” Clarke murmurs, tightening her legs around his hips. Bellamy rolls over onto his back, managing to stay inside of her. 

“Fuck,” she gasps as she begins to move. Bellamy can’t help but thrust into her, holding her hips as he does. He’s too far gone to surrender control to her and if he’s going by the look of bliss on her face and how she’s clearly trying so hard to stay quiet, he doesn’t think she minds. 

“Fuck, fuck,” Clarke gasps. “I’m there, I’m-”

Her lips form an O, thighs trembling as she clenches around him. Bellamy tries to last as long as he can, thrusting into her and extending her pleasure, but it isn’t another minute before he’s gasping, spilling inside of her. Clarke rolls her hips as he does until they both finally still and Clarke collapses onto him. He chuckles as he strokes her back, if for no other reason than he’s so damn happy.

“Thank you,” he whispers, kissing her temple. Clarke leans up to look down at him, confused by his words. “Just for being you,” he sighs, unable to convey in more eloquent words just how much she means to him. 

Clarke seems to understand, just as she always does. 

“Back at you,” she smiles, leaning in for another kiss.

\--∞--

When Bellamy and Clarke come downstairs the following morning, they find his mother, sister, and Lincoln sitting at the kitchen table sipping on coffee.

“You two really slept in this morning,” his mother observes with a smile.

Bellamy’s face flushes. So maybe Clarke woke him up with a blowjob this morning, and maybe he was desperate to reciprocate and spent longer than he realized with his head between her legs.

“We were beat,” he says.

“Well, get some coffee,” his mom urges, nodding towards the fresh pot. 

“I will, I just - do you think we could talk?”

Clarke squeezes his hand, offering silent support and encouragement. “Hey Lincoln, do you think you could help me bring our bags to the car?”

“Of course,” he says, standing. He looks mildly confused, but doesn’t say anything more before he follows Clarke out of the room.

“Everything okay?” his mother asks, clearly already concerned as he takes Lincoln’s seat at the table.

“I think so,” he tells her. “I guess that depends on how this conversation goes.”

Both his mother and sister wait for him to continue, but he hesitates, wondering where to start. 

“I’ve been lying to you - about Clarke and I. We’re not dating,” he tells them, even though that’s technically now another lie. But that’s a whole other conversation.

“What are you talking about?” Octavia asks, furrowing her brow at him.

“I - I  _ was _ seeing someone, who dumped me like a month ago, but it wasn’t Clarke.”

“Why would you lie about it, honey? You didn’t need to pretend to have a girlfriend just because yours dumped you-”

“Because, Mom - it wasn’t a girlfriend...it was a boyfriend. I’m bisexual.”

“You - what?” she stutters. 

“Yeah, I was dating a guy named Gabriel the last six months, before things ended like a month ago. I didn’t know how to tell you guys, and so I said it was Clarke instead - things spiraled and she’s a good friend, so she agreed to keep up the charade by coming here. But the thing is, whether or not you approve, I realized I can’t keep lying - it isn’t fair to me, or you. So that’s the truth.”

His mother smiles at him, covering his hand with her own. It’s only then that Bellamy realizes his own hand was trembling. The gesture, however simple, brings tears to his eyes. 

“We don’t want you to be anyone but you,” she assures him. “I’m so sorry that I made you feel otherwise - I promise I’ll do better. But I love you, no matter what, always. I’m so proud of the man you’ve become.”

Before Bellamy can even respond, Octavia jumps out of her chair and hugs him from behind. “ _ We  _ love you - so much, big brother,” she assures him, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. Bellamy sighs in relief when she lets him go, sitting back down but leaving her hand on his arm, anchoring him. 

“Thank you guys,” he manages to respond, wiping a stray tear from the corner of his eye.

“Okay, but there’s one thing that still doesn’t make  _ any  _ sense,” Octavia announces.

Bellamy raises his brow at her, prompting her to continue.

“There’s no  _ way _ you and Clarke have been pretending - no way. You can’t fake that chemistry - you look at her like she put the sun in the sky, Bell.”

Bellamy barks a surprised laugh, leaning back in his chair, already feeling more relaxed. “Yeah about that - that’s kind of a long story.”

Octavia quirks an eyebrow at him. “Well, we have time. Let’s hear it.”

**Author's Note:**

> Happy holidays everyone! Comments and kudos always appreciated ❤️❤️


End file.
